


impossible, maybe, or just improbable

by Rothecooldad



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, FAHC, Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Rewrite, fandom wise, gavins bad ideas, hes just fucking dead now, i honestly dont know how to tag this, i just wanted to get rid of bitchface and also geoffs previous behavior, its somehow my longest fic on here, matt loves his family and he loves gavin but by god let the boy get some rest, not bc he did something, rip to frisbee boy who i had to replace, the gang deals with trauma, this fic is so old caleb was still in it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28617732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rothecooldad/pseuds/Rothecooldad
Summary: “Matt?” And that was Jeremy, through Gavin’s earpiece. “Gav’s passed out, but we got him.”There was so much Matt wanted to say.‘Thank you,’and‘will he be okay?’and‘I’m sorry, this is my fault’fought to pass his lips.“Bring him home for me,” he said.
Relationships: Matt Bragg/Gavin Free
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	impossible, maybe, or just improbable

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters are based upon the internet personalities portrayed by members of Achievement Hunter and in no way are meant to reflect the lives of the actual person or persons themselves.
> 
> now entirely [redacted] free!

“Gav, what are you- _? Fuck_.” Matt cursed under his breath watching as Gavin walked off screen of the security feed. 

“Don’t worry about it, Matthew,” Gavin said casually, which was fun, because Matt never worries _more_ than when Gavin tells him not to. “Just checking the place out. Can’t just let everyone else have all the fun, can I?”

“You’re not on cam anymore, Gav. Whatever it is you think you’re going to find in there, it’s not fucking worth it.” He drummed his fingers against the keyboard nervously, clicking over to the set of cameras on the first floor to check on Alfredo and Jeremy. 

The duo were causing a distraction downstairs, keeping all attention on them and evading guards so Gavin could clear out the upper safe and get the intel. And they were doing a hell of a job from the looks of it. Matt wasn’t sure exactly what they had gone with in the end, but the other partygoers were _definitely_ distracted, so he supposes they could call that a win. 

The crew had spent the last week trying to prepare for this job, planning down to seemingly insignificant details to ensure that everybody would be safe. It was going to be a simple mission: get in, get the goods, and get out. They’d been having trouble with this new gang for a while, up-and-comers determined to make a name for themselves by going against the infamous Fake AH Crew. They weren’t the first to try it, nor had they been particularly successful. But they _had_ been an annoyingly persistent thorn in their sides, and infiltrating the party tonight was going to give them a crucial leg up. Nothing was going to go wrong because everything had already been accounted for. 

Everything except, of course, Gavin’s propensity for being difficult. 

Somehow, amidst all the strategizing and the preparations, between all the _what ifs_ and the _for sures,_ they had all managed to collectively forget Gavin’s rather impressive ability to be absolutely unpredictable at the _worst possible times._

So, when the self-proclaimed _‘Wild card’_ of the crew (self-proclaimed, of course, as a joke because they all knew Lindsay held that particular title with a grace and prestige that Gavin could only _dream_ of achieving.) decided to wander off in search of _whatever the fuck he was looking for,_ Matt shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was.

And, really, Matt wasn’t all that surprised. Pissed? A bit, yeah. But if Matt was supposed to drop dead from shock every time Gavin decided to fuck the plan, he would have been gone ten times over. Hell, Matt had been known to humor him on occasion, and this could have been another fun little side quest for the two that would have gotten them both reprimanded later, if Matt could _actually fucking see him._

So now, instead of guiding Gavin through the upper floor so he could grab the files, maybe even leave a nasty little gift in the form of a virus if he had the time, and get the fuck out, Matt was stuck switching between camera feeds in hopes that he _might_ catch a glimpse of Gavin because the fucking British prick decided to go on a goddamn adventure through uncharted territory. 

Yeah, Matt might have been pretty pissed, actually. 

“Ooh, Matt, he’s got a whole set of gold watches up here,” Gavin exclaimed, giddiness palpable even through the comm. “Legit, too. You know I can spot a cheapie from miles away.” 

“That’s nice, Gavin,” Matt replied, voice tight. “How about you kindly _get the fuck back to where I can see you_ and you can tell me all about them, huh?”

He was angry as hell, and for good reason, but more than anything, he was worried for Gavin. Funny that. 

Matt knew he didn’t need to be, not really. Gavin had been in the game longer than Matt, and he’d definitely pulled himself out of more scrapes by himself than Matt really would like to think about. All of The Fakes had, and Matt had been with them long enough to know that worrying didn’t do shit for him. 

He couldn’t help it, though. Every time one of the crew was unnecessarily reckless, his heart would firmly lodge itself in his throat and he’d spiral, thinking about all the worst-case-scenarios until they were far out of harm’s way and he could finally breathe again.

Gavin could take care of himself, sure.

But, he didn’t _need_ to. Matt was there, and as long as Matt was around, none of his crew had to do shit alone. 

Would be nice if they made that easy for him.

Right then, with no visual confirmation that Gavin was _okay, he’s fine, you’re worrying for nothing, Bragg,_ his nerves were gnawing at his stomach like battery acid. The longer Gavin wasn’t in his direct line of sight, the deeper the dread got. 

“Oh, come off it, Matt.” Gavin’s laughter rang in his ears and the hair on the back of his neck raised. “I have _plenty_ of time.”

“No.” Matt ground out. “You really fucking don’t. That’s why-- _Gavin?”_ He went silent for a moment, hearing a shuffling on the other end that was too muffled to be from Gavin. 

“What--” Gavin’s question was cut off by a loud crash. Matt’s heartbeat sped up. 

“Who the fuck are you?” yelled a voice from the other end. 

Matt’s hands were starting to tremble as he tried again and again to find Gavin on the cameras, knowing it was no use. 

Gavin let out a breathy giggle, and Matt paused, his eyebrows raising. 

“Whoops, sorry, mate!” Gavin slurred out, punctuating the line with another giggle. Oh. _Oh._ Matt spared a moment to be thankful that at least Gavin’s self-preservation function wasn’t always missing. “‘M tryin’a find the loo.”

“Wait,” came the voice again, and Matt _really_ wished he could put a face to the voice just so he knew who to fucking kill for this. “You’re one of the uh, fuck- You’re a Fake!” 

“Gavin, _bail!”_ Matt croaked, his throat going tight. “Get your ass outta there _now!_ I’m sending the guys up there, okay, just get the fuck out.” _Please,_ he added silently, a prayer to whoever was listening for Gavin to be _okay._ Matt’s blood rushed in his ears. 

He switched frequencies on the comms, wondering not for the first time why they weren’t all on the same one. Certainly that would be easier and safer, which far outweighed the problems from whatever distractions it may cause, _right?_ Matt thought so, but once again, he’d been overruled by the rest of the crew. So, now Matt was stuck dialing in to Alfredo and Jeremy’s earpieces and leaving Gavin with _nothing._

He could taste bile in his throat at the thought. He tried not to focus on that.

It took Matt three tries to hit the button without missing, his hands shaking as he clicked over to their camera feed.

“Guys, get upstairs. _Now,”_ Matt commanded, not even making an effort to keep his voice level. 

“Kinda busy right now, Matt,” Jeremy replied, grunting. On the screen, Matt watched him duck into an open doorway, chest heaving. 

“I said fucking _now,_ okay, Gavin’s in trouble.” His voice broke, cracking on Gavin’s name, but fuck them if they tried to make him feel embarrassed for that. 

There was a pause where the only thing that could be heard was his thundering heartbeat and Jeremy’s heavy breathing. He wasn’t sure where Fredo was, but as shitty as it might have been, Matt didn’t have it in him to worry about that, too. Fredo was much better suited for this shit anyway. 

“On it.” Jeremy finally responded. “What room?”

“I don’t--, fuck, I don’t _know.”_ Matt could hear the desperation in his voice and he didn’t care. He _was_ desperate, and he wanted to scream. “He just- Gav went off by himself, alright, just--” he took a deep breath. “Just go get him, okay?”

Without waiting for a reply, Matt switched back to Gavin’s comm.

“Gav, I’m back. Please, for the love of fuck, please tell me you’re safe.” 

There was a lifetime’s worth of terror in the time between Matt’s pleading and the response, but he was met with the sounds of a struggle almost immediately. Gavin’s squawks intermixed with the deep groans of the enemy gang member.

Matt almost bit through his tongue to keep from crying out. He swallowed, mouth dry.

“Alright,” he started, making a conscious effort to sound as neutral as possible. “Jeremy’s on his way.”

The struggling stopped abruptly, followed by the sound of a gunshot. Then another. And another.

“ _Gav?”_ Matt squeaked out, breaking the silence. He wasn’t a religious man, but he’d fucking build a goddamn chapel from the ground up with his own two hands if it meant that somebody was listening to his prayers and that Gavin was fucking okay.

“ _Matthew,”_ Gavin’s voice rasped through the earpiece, and Matt nearly blacked out from the relief.

“Oh God, Gav, are you alright?” He was still searching the cameras, watching Jeremy make his way to the top floor. Alfredo was tailing him now, and Matt was glad to see he was fine, too. 

“I got ‘em, Matt. Bipped ‘em right in the heart.”

“Good job, buddy,” Matt sighed, letting himself breathe. Gavin was _alive._

It was a short-lived moment of relief, and Matt wished he could have stayed in that feeling for longer; that in-between period where everything was okay, as far as Matt knew. It was gone as quick as it had come, Matt’s stomach lurching violently, hearing Gavin cough on the other end, harsh and wet and ragged. _No._

“Hey, pal. Take it easy, alright? Fredo and Lil J are almost there.” He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the shakiness to leave his voice.

“Got my shoulder,” Gavin told him, his words soft and brittle, like they would shatter if he was any louder. He whimpered. “ _Really hurts.”_

Matt pried his eyes open to check on Alfredo and Jeremy’s progress through the building. They were closer, but not close enough for Matt’s heart to relax. 

“Shh, just stay still. Okay, Gav? They’re almost there.” _Hurry the fuck up, guys._

“Stay with me, Matt.” Gavin’s pleading was barely audible through the earpiece. “ _Please.”_

“I’m here, Gavvy, alright. Not going anywhere. Promise.” Matt’s reassurances dripped with distress he tried to swallow back. He couldn’t break, not yet. Gav needed him. 

_“‘M scared,”_ Gavin whispered. His breathing picked up. Matt wiped at the tear streaks on his face. _When did he start crying?_

“You’re fine, Gavin. It’s okay.” He choked back a sob. “You’re going to be _okay.”_

Matt’s heart skipped a beat when he heard the sound of another crash on Gavin’s end. 

“ _Gavin!”_ He released the breath he hadn’t known he was holding. That was Alfredo. 

They’d made it. They were going to save him. Gavin was going to be fine.

_He had to be fine._

“Matt?” And that was Jeremy, through Gavin’s earpiece. “Gav’s passed out, but we got him.”

There was so much Matt wanted to say. ‘ _Thank you,’_ and ‘ _will he be okay?’_ and ‘ _I’m sorry, this is my fault’_ fought to pass his lips. 

“Bring him home for me,” he said.

“Will do,” Jeremy told him, voice solemn, before the comm cut out. 

* * *

  
  


When the trio made it back to the penthouse, an unconscious Gavin was rushed into Steffie’s medical bay. The Medic in question had given them all a stern warning not to disturb her, even going as far as having Sarah stand guard outside to stop the others from bursting in while she was trying to stitch Gavin up.

Michael tried to convince Sarah to let him through, but she was no nonsense about the whole ordeal, shooing him away with a glare. _Nobody_ was getting in to see Gavin until Steffie gave the okay, that was for fucking sure.

Instead of loitering outside the medbay, everyone else had scattered, passing the time in their own ways. Whatever got them through the night without losing their minds.

Matt, unable to focus on anything else besides Gavin lying unconscious in the next room over, chose to stay close by anyway. Sarah eyed him warily from where she was leaning against the wall, but Matt paid her no mind. He wasn’t stupid enough to try to disobey her or Steffie. He wasn’t even sure he could handle seeing Gavin like that right then, so he just continued to pace back and forth, chewing his nails to nubs in an effort to calm his mind. 

A few of the others had stopped by to check on him, each of them trying to comfort _him,_ like he mattered at all here, like they weren’t hurting, too. It only made the guilt rise more, overwhelming him. 

Jack had come over with a blanket and a cup of tea, offering Matt a warm smile when he thanked her. The tea sat on the side table, cold and abandoned where she had left it.

Fiona busted into the room as loud as a bullet, like she had to make twice the ruckus without Gavin there with her. She zeroed in on Matt, glasses in one hand and a bottle of Fireball in the other and demanded they do shots. Matt knew he should refuse, and he probably shouldn’t encourage Fiona either, but she looked so lost under her boisterous appearance, and Matt felt like such fucking _shit._ He knocked back shot after shot with her, the amber liquid splashing over his fingers until even Fiona was too far gone. 

Geoff had followed soon after, grimacing at Fiona slumped over on the couch. He didn’t bother asking if Matt ate anything, just handed him a sandwich and raised his brow. 

“Well?” he said expectantly, and Matt took a bite. He didn’t taste it as he chewed, wasn’t even sure what type it was, and he didn’t care. He just swallowed, forcing it down his throat. He’d be thankful later that he had something other than whiskey in his stomach.

“Gavin’s a stubborn asshole at the best of times,” Lindsay had told him, running their fingers through his hair like his mother used to when he was sick. They pressed a kiss to his forehead, and he was half-convinced it was just to gauge his temperature. Matt probably _was_ sick, but he relished in the comfort that was freely given anyway. “He’ll pull through, don’t you worry.”

Trevor and Jeremy were up next in this fucked up parade of good intention, and neither said anything when they showed up. They just sat on either side of him, enveloping him in a tight hug from all angles. Matt had never been so thankful to be unable to breathe. It brought him back to some of the worst nights before they joined the crew, when all they had was each other and that was enough. He let himself take solace in the familiar warmth of his best friends. Some things never changed, and Matt needed that reassurance more than he realized. 

Michael was the one that really surprised him.

He and Alfredo came in covered in ash and the pungent smell of smoke. They had obviously been relieving stress, and Matt was sure he’d be hearing about it on the news later.

Alfredo had walked into the room and immediately went up to Matt, snaking his arm around Matt’s shoulders in a clear gesture of comfort. 

“He’s got this,” was all he said, but there was a certainty in his voice that Matt envied. He just tried to smile back, and Fredo gave him another squeeze before sweeping out of the room, probably to find Trevor, nodding back at Michael.

Saying Michael looked dangerous would be an understatement. With his nostrils flared, and rage burning in his eyes, his clothing scorched and gun hanging loosely from its holster at his hip, Michael looked like he could single handedly tear down Los Santos then and there.

When he spotted Matt, he raised his fist and pointed to him.

“You,” he growled out. “Fredo told me what happened.”

_This is it,_ Matt thought, bracing himself for Michael’s anger. _He’s going to kill me and I deserve it._

Matt froze when Michael’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him in tight.

Before he could react, Michael was already stepping back, his face much softer than it had been before.

“Thank you,” Michael told him, tone sincere.

“Wh- For what?” Matt asked, still reeling from the embrace. Michael had never hugged him, like _actually_ hugged him, before, and Matt wasn’t sure how to reconcile _that_ with the reaction he _had_ been expecting.

Michael looked at him like he was acting particularly stupid, and maybe he _was._ It sure didn’t seem to make any sense to Matt, but at this point, who fucking knows? He blamed it on the Fireball, why he was so confused and dizzy and why he couldn’t stop replaying the night in his head.

“You saved him, y’know.” Michael said slowly, looking up at Matt.

Matt shook his head. That… wasn’t right. He didn’t fucking do anything; that was all Jeremy and Alfredo. He couldn’t even _see_ Gavin, all he could do was sit back and listen in horror while the others got to play hero. 

Michael frowned, seeing the look on Matt’s face.

“I’m being fucking serious, shithead. This wasn’t your fault. Gavin’s a little British bitch who couldn’t stick to a plan if we fucking hot glued it to his dick, alright? _I_ know that. Everybody here knows that.” His voice shifted, coming out much gentler than Matt had ever heard come from Michael. “ _Nobody. Blames. You._ ”

He kept silent, letting Michael’s words and the conviction behind them sink in. Luckily, Michael didn’t seem to need or desire a response, apparently deciding he had said his piece and walking away. 

That’s what finally made Matt take a seat next to a sleeping Fiona, closing his eyes and dropping his head in his hands. Between the events of the night, and the alcohol coursing through his system, Matt was lightheaded and his thoughts were moving around in his brain like they were swimming through sludge.

That’s where Steffie found him hours later, wiping her hands off on her scrubs and leaving watermarks in their place. She cleared her throat to get Matt’s attention, reaching behind her head and loosening her surgical mask to speak clearly.

“She okay?” Steffie asked, gesturing to Fiona. At Matt’s nod, she continued. “I assume you’ll pass on the message?” He nodded again, suddenly tense. “Gavin’s in recovery now. It was touch-and-go for a while, but he pulled through. He should be fine.”

Finally, Matt let himself relax, feeling the relief spread through his body, limbs growing heavy. 

“It’ll be a while before he can use his left arm again, but that’s fucking nothing in the grand scheme of things.” She sighed, and gave Matt a wry smile. “He can learn to jack off in new and fun ways now. A learning experience.” Steffie laughed softly at her own joke, then frowned in disgust. “Gross.”

The corner of Matt’s lip curled upward in acknowledgement of Steffie’s attempt at lightening the mood, but he was too tired to do anything else. Now that he knew Gavin was going to be okay, everything felt like it was crashing down on him. He wanted nothing more than to go to his room and pass the fuck out. 

Well, no. There was _one_ thing he wanted more, but he was almost afraid to ask.

“C- uh, can I,” Matt paused, composing himself. “Can I see him?”

Steffie gave him a considering look before shrugging. 

“He’ll still be asleep, but--” She trailed off, tilting her head toward the door. “I’ll look after Fiona.”

Matt didn’t have to be told twice, scrambling to stand up. He stood outside the medbay for a moment, taking a deep breath and steeling himself. _Okay._ Now or never. Matt pushed the door open in one swift movement.

He stopped dead when he saw Gavin lying in the hospital bed, tubes and wires and bandages covering him. His left arm was crossed over his chest in a sling, and even sleeping, he looked like he was in considerable pain. Matt was scared to even breathe in his general direction, afraid he’d somehow make it worse.

But, he was there. And he was going to be okay. 

Matt didn’t even try to stop himself from crying then, especially without somebody there to call him on it. He slumped unceremoniously in the chair next to the bed, the tears burning his eyes and blurring his vision as he stared at Gavin’s still form. 

It was too quiet in the room, silent aside from the continuous beeping of the medical equipment that Matt had to tune out for his own sanity. If he thought too hard on it… Well, it was best ignored, regardless. 

Eyes trailing down Gavin’s body - an activity once enjoyed now turning his stomach - Matt catalogued every inch of Gavin he could, unable to stop himself. He knew there was no way that Steffie missed anything, and he was only torturing himself more considering it. But he couldn’t help himself. Gavin looked so small in the bed, pale and motionless and _wrong._

“I’m sorry,” Matt whispered to the silent room. Although impossible, it felt like his words echoed back, mocking him. That was when Matt noticed: Gavin wasn’t snoring. The quiet only became more deafening.

He wasn’t sure why that, above everything else, struck Matt with an overwhelming grief. Matt hadn’t been aware he even _knew_ that Gavin usually snored when he slept, and that fact filled him with a litany of complicated emotions that he didn’t possibly have the mental acuity to examine at the moment. 

Bowing his head, Matt grabbed Gavin’s hand in his own, an anchor to keep him from drifting away in the current of remorse. The hand was limp, and his fingers were chilled, so Matt began to rub them in an effort to increase circulation in the prone digits. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, quieter this time. He closed his eyes. 

A moment passed, then another, and soon enough Matt’s exhaustion took ahold of him, pulling him under. 

* * *

  
  
  


Matt was awoken by something shifting under his head. Not knowing what it was, he had half a mind to ignore it and let sleep claim him again. But the shifting was insistent, so Matt was forced to lift his head and look around in confusion. 

The first thing he noticed was the lack of his own belongings around him. Clearly, he hadn’t made it back to his room the night before, but that wasn’t super unusual for him, really. He often fell asleep at his desk, and by the crick in his neck, that was a very likely option. He dismissed that notion quickly. There were no computers in his direct line of sight, and he couldn’t feel any uncomfortable indentations along his skin that would indicate he’d spent the night with his cheek pillowed on his keyboard.

The second thing he noticed when his mind began to clear was the raging headache pounding away in his skull. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut again. 

“Alright there, love?” came a familiar voice to his right that had Matt prying his eyes back open against his better judgement. He came face to face with Gavin Free, and as he stared into those bright green eyes, the previous night’s events came crashing back to him. 

And with the memories, and the knowledge that Gavin was _fine, god, he was going to be okay,_ came the staggering _rage_ that Matt had to put aside the night before. 

“ _You,”_ Matt hissed, standing up. His anger thankfully seemed to chase away the nausea, which was good because this conversation was going to be painful enough without the threat of vomit. “Do you even fucking know what I went through last night? What the whole fucking crew went through last night?”

Gavin opened his mouth to speak, but Matt put his hand up to stop him. He had to get this out now, or he never would, and it would eat away at him. And, frankly, Matt just went though one of the arguably worst nights of his life without having to deal with _that_ bullshit. 

He paced in front of the bed, not letting his eyes stray toward Gavin’s face. He supposes wearing a hole in the floor while yelling _at_ Gavin was preferable to how he’d been last night, waiting to hear if Gavin was even still _alive_. Baby steps. 

“No, fucking-- Just fucking _listen,_ okay.” He bit his lip, fingers tugging at the zipper on his hoodie, desperate for something to fidget with while he collected his thoughts. “Because you couldn’t just-- just stay where I fucking told you to, you almost _died.”_ Matt’s voice caught on the last word, but he forced himself to power through. 

“I didn’t-- I didn’t know what the fuck was _happening,_ Gavin! I didn’t know where the fuck you were, if you were okay, fucking _anything._ And the whole fucking time I couldn’t shake the fact that it _felt like my fault.”_

Gavin tried to speak up again, but Matt ignored him, continuing. 

“Do you realize how goddamn helpless I felt?! Just sitting there and waiting for confirmation from _somebody_ that you were alive or dead?” Everything was too hot, and Matt was choking. He left the zipper down and moved his hands to his hair, tugging. It helped a little, and Matt licked his lips. “I could do fuck-all beyond leaning back and twiddling my goddamn thumbs because you couldn’t. _Follow. Fucking. Directions.”_

Then his voice lowered to a hush, and he finally turned to face Gavin again. “Do you-- do you even realize what that would have done to me? Thinking you were… _dead?”_

He paused, swallowing thickly. 

Gavin, surprisingly, kept silent, letting him finish. And, _oh, now_ he decides to listen, Matt thought bitterly.

“Well? Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Matt’s chest heaved, panting for breath.

“You stayed.”

Matt’s eyes widened.

“I-- _What?”_

“ _You stayed,”_ Gavin said reverently, staring at Matt in awe. 

It was like someone pulled the plug on him, his anger draining from his body as he watched Gavin smiling up at him.

“Well, I mean, yeah,” Matt replied, hesitant but assured in his answer. _Like he had any other choice._ There wasn’t a reality where he just left Gavin alone, couldn’t imagine one if he tried. “I promised.”

And, fuck, did Gavin beam at that admission. 

He went to stand, and Matt rushed to his side, carefully pushing him back onto the bed. 

“Easy there, Gav. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Matt Bragg.” Gavin grinned at him before using his good hand to curl around Matt’s neck, dragging him closer. “I know _you_ don’t think so, you silly sausage, but you saved my life."

Gavin leant up and closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to the corner of Matt’s mouth. He shifted until he was balanced on the bed next to Gavin, mindful of his injured shoulder. _After everything they’d gone through,_ Matt thought, melting into the kiss, _he was allowed to have this. As a treat._ He cradled Gavin’s cheek in his hand as he pulled away, smiling softly.

They heard a loud wolf-whistle from behind them. 

“Yeah, boi! Get some!” Michael shouted.

Geoff stood next to him in the doorway, watching the scene fondly until he caught Matt looking at him. He scowled, schooling his expression into one of annoyance. 

“It’s about damn time,” he muttered, shaking his head. “If I’d known all it would take was a near death experience to get you assholes together, I would have shot Gavin myself and saved us all years of pining.”

It must be a testament to how long he’d been a Fake, if that made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. 

Besides, it was difficult for Matt to care too much about anything that wasn’t the man in his arms.

“ _My hero,”_ Gavin breathed, pressing another kiss to Matt’s lips. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i didnt mean to make this my longest fic but here we are i guess starting 2021 strong  
> hmu [ @rhdcarts ](https://rhdcarts.tumblr.com)


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